


Get in Loser

by somethingsomething



Series: The AWOL Nation [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crossover, Classic Cars, Demons, F/M, Quasi-incest, Tattoos, Team Hot Dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsomething/pseuds/somethingsomething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We're going demon hunting.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a crisp afternoon in October when Mako Mori finds Chuck Hansen leaning against an old ’68 Roadrunner.</p><p>“Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”</p><p>She pulls his cigarette out of his mouth and takes a drag.  Exhales.  “Which one?”</p><p>His grin is sharp enough to cut through the smoke.  “Both.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get in Loser

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post: http://wantonlywindswept.tumblr.com/post/60683600069/pacrim-spn-fusion-gifset-the-family-business
> 
> I know jack shit about classic cars so that's lifted straight from the post. Sorry if there's plagarism?? (I don't know how this stuff works??) But I don't think so, but apologies just in case!
> 
> Have fun and let me know what you think!
> 
> Update: Sorry! The title was really bugging me. That is all, carry on. And there was a glaring typo.

Mako Mori decided a long time ago that if her father wasn’t going to let her hunt demons and her step-father couldn’t change his mind, she was going to become a damn good engineer. After that, she was going to make the best damn guns ever seen. Then she was going to go hunt the demons that had killed her family, Stacker or no.

* * * * * *

It’s a crisp afternoon in October when Mako finds Chuck Hansen leaning against an old ’68 Roadrunner. She’s just headed back to her dorm from a 200-level engineering class she’s TA-ing and her evaluation of him is all angles and lines and forces.

Chuck has one booted foot planted on the ground, his other leg crossing over at the shin in a neat 60o angle. He’s leaning his ass against the side, arms crossed, shoulders slumped. His hair’s messy and he probably hasn’t slept in a few days if the sunglasses are anything to go by. The sun’s too low in the sky for him to need them otherwise. A small part of her whispers that it’s alcohol but she kicked that demon to the curb a couple years ago and Chuck’s not likely to forget it. Max runs to meet her.

Chuck grins when he sees who Max has gone to assault. He pushes off the car, standing easily in a stance that can go into a defense faster than you can eye can blink.

“Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”

She pulls his cigarette out of his mouth and takes a drag. Exhales. “Which one?”

His grin is sharp enough to cut through the smoke. “Both.”

* * * * * *

Out in the real world, they go by Mako Mori and Chuck Hansen because, well. Their fathers are often wanted by police and Pentecost is a fairly uncommon name. Mako uses her old name more often than Chuck because she’s out there with the Muggles more often than he is.

When hunting, they go by Pentecost because it offers it’s own kind of protection and bait, all in one.

* * * * * *

Mako lets Chuck into her room. She has a single this year; it’s cramped with her books and things and Chuck and Max. Not to mention the weapons she’s managed to hide. Four years of practice and cramped spaces and unsuspecting roommates have made her very good at squirreling away butterfly knives and salt and books on exorcisms. She’s pretty sure Chuck’s the only one who could possibly find them and that’s because they’ve been reading each other’s minds since the age of 12.

Chuck dumps his duffel by the foot of her bed before he sprawls across it. “They left a couple days ago, headed out towards California. Haven’t heard from ‘em since.”

Mako weighs her options. This isn’t going to be short or easy and it’s her final year of college. Stacker would want her to stay, finish, be safe. Sacrifices happen, he’d say. Fuck that, she’d say.

“I’ll pack and send some e-mails. We can be out in 20. Most of this stuff can stay, I think. Help me shred some things.”

Chuck smiles up at her, slow and lazy. She can feel his eyes move over her like glaciers. A lifetime of schooling her reactions manages to keep the shivers in check. “I think the old men can wait one more day.”

* * * * * *

The Pentecost household is an unusual one in many ways. The most obvious is the fact that none of them are born Americans and that Chuck and Herc are the only ones who “match.”

Hercules and Chuck Pentecost (né Hansen) hailed from Sydney, Australia. Herc had been hunting in Australia for a few years before meeting his wife, Angela, a fellow hunter. They settled in Sydney not long after Angela became pregnant. Their domestic bliss was short-lived; when Chuck was ten, a demon possessed his mother and embarked on a bloody rampage ending in Chuck’s elementary school. Herc had had to decide between his wife and his son. Some days, Mako can tell that Chuck has never really forgiven his father; neither, she suspects, has Herc.

After that, the Hansens left Australia as soon as the press and feds had allowed. They started over in America and filed for and received citizenship. Herc started hunting again and, because he couldn’t figure out what else to do with the world’s angriest 10-year-old, began to teach Chuck.

When the Hansens meet the Pentecosts, Chuck and Mako react like fire and ice. By the end, they fit together better than a bullet in a shotgun barrel.

* * * * * *

Mako wakes up at five wedged between Chuck and the wall, Max a heavy weight across her thighs. It’d be cute if Mako didn’t have more important things to do right now.

Hunters are light sleepers but Mako is silence. She’s showered, packed, e-mailed her professors and the dean and in the middle of shredding papers when Chuck finally wakes up.

He stretches, his back cracking and toes curling. The sheet dips low enough that Mako can read the runes etched over his hipbone. Then Chuck sits up and opens his mouth. “You’re really hot when you’re destroying shit,” he says.

Mako tosses a toiletry bag and towel at him. “Go. We need to be out of here soon, before too many people see.”

Once Chuck leaves (sauntering, trying to get Mako to delay just five more minutes, come on, you know we’ll have them back in the blink of an eye what’s five minutes?), Mako bundles the sheets into a plastic bag of dust, trash and paper shreddings. They’ll find an old oil drum and burn these tonight.

“What the hell do we need a box of books for? You sure you have enough clothes? Mako, you do not need a blanket,” Chuck says when he comes back. The smell of her shampoo wafting from him makes Mako lose focus long enough that Chuck tries to put the blanket over her desk chair.

“It’s for research. Not even I can find everything online. And yes, thank you. How often have we camped out in the car in the middle of Ohio in the winter?” She takes the blanket back and starts gathering her things in her arms. (One somewhat-bulging duffle was not too much, thank you. Just because Chuck could live in the same pair of jeans and two shirts did not mean that she had to.)

Mako turns back around to find Chuck studying her. “You’re not coming back, then?”

If it were Stacker or even Herc, the question would make Mako pause, maybe shuffle a little guiltily. But this is Chuck. There isn’t anybody else who gets her need for revenge, no one else who can read her mind. So she tilts her chin and says “No.”

Mako swears that one day, Chuck’s grin is going to be enough to light the darkest cave. “Great. The old men are boring. They keep carryin’ on about prune juice and fiber. You’re much more fun.”

Mako snorts. She better be.

They turn off the lights and Mako starts a new To Do List. Step One: Runaway with Chuck. Step Two: Rescue Old Men.

**Author's Note:**

> I make no apologies. None.


End file.
